


Overheard

by virgilsjourney (jenna221b)



Series: Learning & Loving [12]
Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Brave Roman, Confrontations, Declarations Of Love, Diary/Journal, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Love Letters, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Protective Roman, Swearing, callbacks to Brave Spinning Distraction & Interlude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 09:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12385329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenna221b/pseuds/virgilsjourney
Summary: Virgil stares and stares down at the envelope. He could open it right now, and read it. There’s nothing stopping him. Nothing save from the pounding of his heart, and his hands, still wrapped tight around the paper. Still shaking. Damn it. It feels like he’s on the edge of a cliff, and opening the envelope will send him tumbling over, down, down- for God’s sake, why does he have to get nervousnow?Why can his mind only think of the worst case scenario,rejection, when that doesn’t even make sense, surely-“Hey, Virge?”It’s a gentle whisper. Virgil looks up to see Patton leaning over towards him.“You want me to open that for you? I won’t look, I swear.”





	Overheard

And then, just as soon as the lights have fully dimmed, they flicker back on again. Virgil frowns, searching for Roman, but he must be long gone already. There’s a pause, and some questioning looks from people in the audience, when an announcement comes through on the tannoy:

“Apologies for the delay in the start of Act 2. We are currently experiencing some technical difficulties. The show should resume shortly.”

The lights stay stubbornly on. Virgil stares and stares down at the envelope. He could open it right now, and read it. There’s nothing stopping him. Nothing save from the pounding of his heart, and his hands, still wrapped tight around the paper. Still shaking. Damn it. It feels like he’s on the edge of a cliff, and opening the envelope will send him tumbling over, down, down- for God’s sake, why does he have to get nervous  _now?_  Why can his mind only think of the worst case scenario, _rejection_ , when that doesn’t even make sense, surely-

“Hey, Virge?”

It’s a gentle whisper. Virgil looks up to see Patton leaning over towards him.

“You want me to open that for you? I won’t look, I swear.”

And Virgil knows this is his chance, otherwise he’ll probably still be stuck with it unopened throughout the whole of Act 2. He nods, and Patton takes the envelope, opening it up so carefully. Then, he hands it back to Virgil. 

“What’s your favourite part so far?” Patton says suddenly, turning to Logan. 

Virgil smiles, admiring how Patton has smoothly given him some form of privacy.

Logan blinks. “The part where they’re not singing,” he deadpans, and looks both shocked and pleased when Patton laughs, elbowing him in the side.

Virgil lets their chatter fade away, as he reaches inside the envelope. He brings out a few sheets of paper, folded over and over so they could fit inside.

“Oh,” he says, as he unfolds the one on top, recognising Roman’s calligraphy style handwriting. He notices it start off relatively neat at the beginning of the page, and then get more rushed and cramped as the letter continues.

_Dear Virgil,_

_See, this sounds weird already. G O D. I don’t know what I’m doing. Well, I kinda do but. I keep on trying to say all this like actually **to**  you but I keep on getting tongue-tied which is weird I can improvise just fine in classes but... what the hell. I want to be honest. And I was thinking and thinking about how to just say this, and then I remembered I’ve been doing this for a while. Well. You’ll see. And if you don’t- if it’s not- if-_

_Look, if you don’t feel the same, no hard feelings. You’re a great friend._

_Hope you’re enjoying the show,_

_All my love,_

_Roman_

Virgil reads it over and over,  _all my love, all my love, all my love,_  these are words Roman actually  _wrote_ , and oh God, there’s more. He unfolds the remaining papers and he sees they’re full of Roman’s handwriting, dates written in tiny numbers in the margins. He looks at the first one, from months and months ago, and he realises when Roman wrote it. The day after he came back from the party drunk. The day after he’d cried in Virgil’s arms.

_Don’t know what to say to him. Don’t know how to say how much it means, what he did. He’s still sleeping now, bless his heart. I don’t know what to do but-_

It cuts off there, and Virgil thinks back, remembering... Logan had talked to Roman in the kitchen that day, hadn’t he? Meaning... Virgil feels an abrupt lump in his throat. Had Roman woken up, just to write this, way back then?

He turns the page over. His eyes suddenly blur as he scans down, jumping from moment to moment:

_I feel so great!!! Haven’t felt this way in M O N T H S. Rehearsing with him is like... magic, it’s so! Much! FUN!_

_I’ll tell him today. Tomorrow. FFS ROMAN GET IT TOGETHER_

The last paragraph catches his eye, as it stands on its own, in the middle of the last remaining blank page:

_God I couldn’t find him and I was so worried. Came back from rehearsal thinking I’d find him on the couch in the living room, but nope. Not in his room either and then Logan came in and I couldn’t stop rambling, saying how Patton told me he already wasn’t feeling well, and now he’s just **disappeared** and then Logan looked like he was thinking and thinking with that Stupid Smug Look and then he was just like ‘Have you tried your room?’ And I said that was pointless, there’s no way he’d be there, and then I opened the door and there he was, sleeping. God, I was so relieved._

_He’s still sleeping now, but he’s stirring a bit. I’ll make him toast soon, I bet he hasn’t eaten._

_Wow, I sound so hopeless. Maybe I am. There’s a reason why it’s called ‘hopelessly in love’, I suppose._

_I love him. I love him so much._

Virgil folds the papers back inside the envelope reverently. His hands are still shaking, but for an entirely different reason. He’s not all that surprised when he lifts a hand to his cheek, and his fingers come away wet. 

“Jesus, Roman,” he whispers, voice catching.

All of a sudden, there’s the sound of Roman’s voice. booming throughout the theatre. Virgil jumps, half expecting to see him standing right in front of him, but then he realises it must be coming from backstage. 

“Look, it’s that wire,” he’s saying. “I bet you anything that’s what it is. Let me just try, that one might control the lights-” He breaks off and when he speaks again, his voice sounds oddly stilted. “Can you _move_ , please?”

“Why should I?”

The surly voice is familiar, and the realisation comes to Virgil all at once: it’s the voice of that flying monkey, who inexplicably already knew his name. And, in a rush, he remembers Roman’s nightmare, the vague concerned murmurings of flying monkeys and fear for Virgil; and he thinks of the only person he’s ever known Roman to have a serious fight with.

 _Jake_ , he thinks, and his stomach pools with the cold iron fury he first felt so long ago.

Thankfully, wonderfully, Roman doesn’t seem cowed in the slightest. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe move so everyone knows Wicked doesn’t end on such a shit cliffhanger?” he says. 

That prompts a few nervous giggles from some of the audience. Virgil’s hands clench over his knees.

“Virgil?” It’s Logan. He sounds hesitant, understanding. “Virgil, are you-”

There’s the awful sound of feedback from a mic, then Jake’s voice returns mid-conversation, oily and awful:

“Just think it’s a bit pathetic to be honest. What kind of name is  _Virgil_  anyway?”

“It’s  _his_  name,” Roman says loudly, and until now, Virgil didn’t know he could sound full of fire and ice and protectiveness and rage all at once. “And I think it’s beautiful.”

There’s a pause. Then, Jake says, “You know your mic’s on, genius,” and Virgil can hear the smirk in his voice. There’s just the sound of Roman’s heavy, uneven breathing in response. Virgil feels like throwing up.

But then, a miracle.

“What is your  _fucking_ problem?” Roman says, passionate and indignant. “Are you _that_  bothered you didn’t get the part? Well, take it then, I couldn’t fucking care less. You know what? I almost feel sorry for you. I can’t believe me being  _in love_  makes you that angry. What, did you think I’d be ashamed or something? I’ve got the absolute fucking privilege of knowing someone who’s kind and caring and sweet and funny and  _beautiful,_  inside and out, and you’re just bitter. You wanted me to run and hide from it? Fuck you. I’m in love with Virgil and  _nothing_  you say will ruin that for me.”

Together, the mics die and the lights dim, plunging the theatre into darkness. Virgil can hear puzzled whisperings all around:  _“Was that Roman?” “What did he say?” “Who’s Virgil?”_

He feels someone tugging on his sleeve. 

“Virgil,” Logan hisses. “Virgil, sit  _down_.”

It’s only then that Virgil notices he’s half standing, as if ready to flee from his seat. He swallows, jerkily nods at Logan, and sits. The curtains open for Act 2, but Virgil can hardly hear the applause, as Roman’s words echo over and over in his mind.

Kind. Beautiful. _Love._

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote out Roman's note to Virgil: https://virgilsjourney.tumblr.com/post/171911282950/picture-to-accompany-more


End file.
